Blushing Proposals
by eccentricpetal
Summary: Molly Hooper has a past, a past that even Sherlock Holmes didn't deduct. But now her past is in her present and Sherlock finds himself intrigued... and quite frankly, sick. Silly, mousy Molly Hooper... he just cannot let her make THIS mistake again.


**Blushing Proposals.**

**Authors Note: **To everyone who reads my story 'Take This Hand, We Can Do It' I'm sorry I'm not updating that but I finished my work and I've been dying to write this story. So, I'm taking a break from writing angst and instead I'm going to write this oneshot. It came to me last night and so here it is. I hope you like it! Oh, and before you read I apologise if I got any of the details about pathology wrong. I tried to look it all up but everything was so contradictory and I couldn't make my mind up whether it was for the UK or other countries, the information I found. If any of you know the real details: let me know and I will gladly rectify my story! Thank-you!  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I do not own Sherlock in anyway.

* * *

><p><em>Molly Hooper was just twenty and everything was perfect.<em>

_She was a couple years away from medical school and currently getting straight A's in her undergraduate course at university._

_She had the greatest friends… ever! _

_When she wasn't studying, she was partying and she couldn't have asked for better people to party with._

_And then there was __**him**_**.**

_Ah, the boyfriend._

_The wonderful, smart, gorgeous, __**older**__ boyfriend._

_All her single friends were jealous of her relationship._

_He was simply perfect._

_Even her mother approved of him despite the age difference._

_He was twenty-nine, nearly thirty._

_He was currently rising to a high position within The Metropolitan Police Force. _

_He was just so… __**perfect**__!_

_Molly sighed as she sat in their usual spot in St. James' Park, waiting for him._

_They were supposed to be having a picnic today and he was surprisingly late._

_Her eyes fell to her watch and she frowned._

_Had something happened?_

_Her heart began to race._

_Her eyes widened at all the thoughts running through her head._

'_Oh God, please let him be OK,' she sent the silent prayer up to the sky above._

"_Molly."_

_The brunette's eyes snapped to the figure standing beside her._

_She let out a sigh of relief._

'_Thank-you, God,' she whispered inside of her head._

_He was fine._

_He was alive._

_He was looking exceptionally… __**perfect**__!_

_She smiled up at him, waiting for him to sit next to her._

_He didn't smile back._

_He didn't even so much as move to sit beside her._

_She frowned._

"_I-Is ev-everything OK?" She asked softly, her voice cracking from nerves._

_He sighed._

'_Oh dear.'_

"_Look Mol, it's been fun and all. You're a beautiful, intelligent, young woman but you've got to understand that at my age there are certain things expected of me by my family."_

_Molly felt her world whole world being torn apart._

_She couldn't breathe._

_Tears blurred her vision._

"_Wh-what d-do you m-mean?" She choked out; her throat was constricted._

_She forced back the sobs that wanted to take control of her body._

_She heard him sigh and he bent down beside her, resting his hand on her shoulder._

_She no longer felt like a woman in his presence; she was like a little girl._

"_There's no easier way to say this, Molly," she looked up in to his eyes, trying to understand him._

"_S-say wh-wh-what?"_

"_I'm engaged."_

_She thought it was bad when her world felt like it was being torn apart; that was nothing compared to how it felt now._

_It was as if all at once everything shattered to the floor in to tiny pieces._

"_H-how?"_

"_She's a family friend. I always knew I was going to marry her. It became official last night."_

_Molly could no longer see; the tears spilled over her lids._

_Did he not even care?_

_He didn't appear to._

"_Oh fuck. Molly, please don't cry. I don't want this. I really don't… but it's what my parents expect of me." _

_He sounded broken then._

_Utterly broken._

_She scoffed._

_Serves him fucking right!_

_The tears continued falling; a lump had now grown in her throat._

"_Then __**why **__are you doing this?" _

_He fell down next to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders._

"_Molly, I've told you! It's what my fam–"She cut him off._

"_I know that! Why didn't you tell them no? Why didn't you ask to marry __**me **__instead!" She let out a choked sob when she spoke the word 'me.'_

_He let out a bitter laugh._

_Molly felt __**worthless**__._

"_Molly, you're far too young to be married; you're nowhere near finished your education, marriage would hold you back. You're an amazing woman and I refuse to keep you back from all you will do. My parents would never approve of us anyhow; the age gap is too great for them."_

_She nearly laughed at that._

_It was more likely just to do with his parents than her be amazing._

"_I'm sorry, Mol."_

_Molly spoke nothing._

_She just stayed in his arms for what felt like hours but could have been no more than half an hour._

_He pulled away from her, placed a final kiss upon her lips and walked away, off to his bride._

* * *

><p>That had been thirteen years ago.<p>

That was the first and only time Molly Hooper had, had her heart broken.

She hadn't let anyone get as close to her like he had.

She couldn't suffer that pain again.

Anytime that god awful memory surfaced in her thoughts she regretted everything she had done that day.

She wished so much that she had been strong.

She wished she had slapped his handsome face and yelled to him how much she hated him and wished to never see him again.

She would have walked away and at least felt like she still had her pride.

But no, she hadn't.

She'd simply cried in his arms like the pathetic mouse she was.

She was thirty-three now and the memory still haunted her.

She was no longer in love with him, she _knew_ that.

She fell out of love with him the moment he told her it was over between them.

She just spent the next four years trying to get over the pain he had caused her; she had felt so dreadfully humiliated.

After that day, she had withdrawn from her friends and put all her energy in to studying instead of partying.

Her perfect life suddenly had taken a drastic turn.

She didn't regret it now.

Hell, it was the reason she had gotten her job at St. Bart's.

With all her focus on her career she had ended up becoming a better student than she already was, which was pretty hard considering she always got A's.

She had done so good that one of her professors had suggested her for the role of a pathologist at Bart's, after the other had sadly passed away.

Bart's had been dubious of taking her on at first, after all she had only just finished her required years as a House Officer but the professor was very well regarded and so they took the chance.

They hadn't regretted the choice.

Molly had been as thorough with her job as she had been with her studying.

Her only flaws were whenever Sherlock Holmes was around.

When Molly thought of how well she was doing in her life, she wasn't sure whether she should be thankful to _him_; she always wondered how she would react to seeing _him_ again in the flesh.

She had seen _him_ since that day.

Of course she had.

After all, _he_ now held a high position within The Metropolitan Police; _he'd_ been on the television.

She'd seen glimpses of _him_ whilst she had been being questioned about Jim from IT who turned out to be the vicious James Moriarty, but that had been all.

She hadn't spoken to _him_.

What would she say to _him_?

Would she be kind?

Would she let _him_ see how much _he_ had destroyed her?

Or would she show _him_ what _he_ was missing out on?

* * *

><p>Those were the thoughts crossing through Molly's mind as she stood alone in her mortuary.<p>

She was leaning on one of the tables where she was supposed to be sorting out the equipment she had ordered in last week.

"Molly!" A voice behind her exclaimed as the doors to the morgue swung open.

The pathologist jumped but didn't turn around.

She was trying to keep her calm.

Perhaps if she didn't turn around she'd be able to talk like a normal human being and not a stammering fool.

After she had helped him fake his suicide she thought things would have changed between them but, sadly, they had stayed the same.

He saw her no differently.

She was about to reply to him when a yelp sounded throughout the morgue.

Molly turned around in surprise, thinking Sherlock had hurt himself.

She was shocked when she found Sherlock stood in front of her, completely… _perfect_.

"Oh _Anderson_! Must you always show the world how brainless you are?"

Molly's form went cold.

_Anderson_?

As in Anderson from _The Metropolitan Police Force_?

As in _Adam _Anderson?

Molly stood on her tiptoes, nervously, and glanced over Sherlock's shoulder.

She gulped.

There _he_ was.

Adam Anderson.

The man she had only caught glimpses off since the day he'd broken her heart when she was only twenty-years-old.

"You slammed the door in my face!" He cried to Sherlock, clutching at his nose.

Molly wasn't sure what to feel at what she saw.

Part of her was _gloating_ at the fact Sherlock had just _hurt_ him.

Another part of her was _angry_ at Sherlock for hurting him – it should have been her!

An even bigger part of her simply wanted to go over to him and _help_.

He was _bleeding_ for heaven sakes!

However, she didn't.

She remained put.

* * *

><p>She slipped off her tiptoes and let her eyes glide to Sherlock who was watching her with an expression she had only seen once before.<p>

She had seen it the day before his suicide when she had told him she could see that he was sad.

He looked genuinely _interested _in her.

She blushed lightly and was surprised to find that when she spoke her voice was strong, and unbroken.

"What do you want?"

The look remained on his face for a few moments before it vanished, being replaced by his normal, emotionless expression.

"I need to see the body of Mrs Angela Felton. It seems to be the only way to prove to the excuse of a human being behind me that I am _right_."

Molly almost laughed.

Of course.

She nodded her head, silently, and moved to pull the pretty, elderly woman from her wall of bodies.

She slowly pulled back the sheet, revealing the woman's face.

Her eyes went over to Anderson who was surprisingly quiet.

She _froze_.

The only reason he was so quiet was because his eyes were fixed upon her.

She gulped and slowly moved towards him.

"I better help him sort out his nose. I'm not having him bleeding all over Mrs Felton, she deserves some _respect_."

Molly was surprised at the fact she had even spoken.

Anderson didn't move, his eyes still stuck on his former lover.

He hadn't seen her since that day.

Not even a single glimpse of those heart-warming eyes.

Of course he _knew_ about her.

He _knew _she worked here.

How _idiotic_ of him!

How could he have forgotten that!

He had deliberately avoided this place for a reason all these years.

If it hadn't have been for the… the… _freak_, as Sally cared to call him, he wouldn't have forgotten, but he was so hell bent on him being wrong for once that it had slipped his mind.

And now, he was stuck in this damn cold mortuary watching the girl he had lost walk towards him for the first time in thirteen years.

* * *

><p>Sherlock watched the pair in intrigue.<p>

What was happening right now?

There was something between them.

He had realised it when he had noticed Molly was standing on her tiptoes; her pupils were wider than normal, her mouth hung agape, and he believed she looked much paler than she normally did – he wasn't entirely sure about that as the girl spent most of her time around him with a vivid shade of red covering her face.

But now, now he could feel the tension in the air.

Oh, it was simply _delicious_!

What evil thing had Anderson done to Molly?

Had he ran in to her like the wild animal he was and caused her daily morning coffee to spill all over her?

Or even better yet, had he ran over her _precious _cat, Toby, with his car?

He knew Toby had recently died.

Perhaps the culprit of the accident was in this room with them.

Oh! It was so _glorious_!

He'd have someone else to torture Anderson with.

Anderson would be so uncomfortable!

It was _perfect_.

No.

Wait.

If Anderson had killed Toby, why would Molly help him?

That didn't seem like the thing to do.

He frowned as he watched them.

There was definitely something between them though.

But _what_?

Oh, how _infuriating _this all was!

He sighed.

* * *

><p>The sigh emitted from Sherlock went unnoticed by the other two in the room.<p>

Molly was now in front of Adam.

She looked in to his eyes.

Her heart felt like it was breaking all over again.

He was still as handsome as he had been when they had first met.

Perhaps more even.

Not in the conventional sense but there was just… _something _about his whole person that Molly felt attracted to.

Maybe it was the thought of how she knew him?

She wasn't sure.

Still looking up in to his eyes, she smiled and spoke.

"Hello Adam."

Sherlock frowned.

Who the hell was Adam?

Sherlock was about to step in and correct Molly.

"It's been a while, Molly."

Sherlock's frown grew deeper.

He felt rather _nauseous_.

These two not only knew each other but they seemed to know each other on a… _friendly _level.

How was this possible?

And _Adam Anderson_?

Oh God, he really felt like he'd throw up now!

It was so… _sickly_!

"It has been," she nodded and then pointed towards a chair.

"Sit there, please. I'll just get the first aid kit. Your nose looks disgusting." She murmured as she walked off to her office on the other side of the morgue.

He laughed.

Sherlock wanted someone to kill him.

Anderson's laugh was grinding on his nerves.

Sherlock would have told them to stop it and get back to work had he not wanted to know what it was they had between them.

It was _irritating _him.

He couldn't figure it out.

Or perhaps, he didn't want to admit to himself that he knew what they had, had between them.

_That _thought would truly make him retch up the small amount of food he had consumed within the past forty-eight hours.

* * *

><p>Molly soon returned with the first aid kit and began to work on fixing up Adam's nose.<p>

"How have you been, Mol?"

Sherlock felt his gut twist at the way Anderson shortened Molly's name.

He wanted to do more than make that _bastards _nose bleed, and he wanted to do it with his _fist_.

"Oh, you know. I've been good. How could I not have been good?" She laughed, nervously, and continued to patch up his nose.

Why was Molly nervous?

What. The. Fuck. Had. Anderson. Done. To. Her.

Sherlock surprised himself then.

What was wrong with him?

He tried to ignore Molly and Anderson, turning back to Mrs Felton's body.

Adam gave Molly a tight smile and winced as he did.

"It's probably best you don't move." She continued to dab at his nose, clearing the blood that was drying there.

Adam nodded his head, slightly, and stared in to Molly's eyes as she worked.

Molly began to feel slightly uncomfortable under his gaze and so she broke their silence.

"How have you been, Adam?"

"Wonderful. Recently _divorced_." He smiled and regretted it the instant he did, his entire face stung like hell.

"I told you not to move." Molly muttered, as she continued fixing up his nose.

Sherlock felt his own twitch in disdain.

Why did Anderson feel the need to tell Molly of his recent divorce?

Molly did have bad taste in men; there was no doubt about it.

But her taste wasn't _that _bad!

"How about you, Mol? Seeing anyone?"

Sherlock's fists clenched by his sides.

"No. Not right now. Not many people want to date someone with hours like mine." She sighed and pulled back to admire her work.

"Lucky for you, that door didn't break your nose. Everything seems OK. You should just have some bruising come out in the next couple of days."

Anderson nodded and stood from the chair so he was a few inches taller than Molly.

"Would you like to be seeing someone, Mol?"

Sherlock's eye twitched.

Where was that _idiot _going with this?

"E-excuse me?" Molly stammered, cheek's flushing the red that was usually reserved for Sherlock.

"I was just thinking about how much _fun _we used to have, y'know? And I was wondering, since you're single and I'm single – no women my parents expect me to marry insight," he chuckled darkly at that before continuing, "Perhaps we could grab some _dinner _and just have… _fun_."

Molly turned an even more embarrassing shade of red.

She felt rather… _violated _by the way he spoke to her and the way his eyes appraised her appearance.

"I-uh… erm… well-I… Adam… I–"

Sherlock cut Molly's stammering off with a growl.

Anderson and Molly turned to look at him in shock – they had forgotten he was even in the room.

"SHUT-UP!"

Sherlock began stalking towards the pair in anger.

"I'm trying to _work _here but all I can hear is you two and your unnecessary chatter! Anderson hearing you think is a bad enough distraction but hearing your voice repeatedly truly grinds on a man's nerves! And _Mol_, I can usually handle having you around me whilst I work. You're usually rather _helpful_, fetching me coffee and anything I need, but with this _imbecile _about I find you barely tolerable and I cannot _bear _to deal with _that_. So, if you are so much as thinking of saying _yes _to that disgustingly bad _proposal _– really Anderson, even _I _could offer a more _appealing _package other than _dinner _and _fun_ – then I am going to have to _intervene_."

Molly felt her heart tighten at his words.

And what exactly did he mean by _intervene_?

There was only one way to find out.

"I was in fact thinking of saying _yes_ to _Anderson's proposal_."

A smug smile formed on Anderson's face, he didn't seem to notice Sherlock nearing closer to Molly.

"Then I guess I shall have to _intervene _on the world's behalf."

Anderson rolled his eyes at that.

"I guess you shall have to."

Anderson's mouth fell open as the words left Molly's lips.

What the actual _fuck_?

"How about a _real _dinner and a _commitment _from _me _that I will do _everything _in my power to make sure your answer to that wanker's proposal remains as a _'no'_?"

Molly felt her lips form in to a huge smile at that.

"And what does this _commitment _from _you_ entail?"

"We'll talk about it over dinner."

Anderson couldn't believe it.

Was this seriously happening?

Who on earth did Sherlock Holmes actually think he was?

Molly was _his _girl!

She may have had a _stupid _crush on the _freak _but **he **had actually BEEN with her before!

He couldn't _claim _her now just because there was _interest _being shown in her.

"I'm waiting for your yes, Molly."

"Oh, right… God, yes, Sherlock!" Molly exclaimed before blushing beet root.

Ah yes, that was how it was meant to be.

That _blush _was reserved for him and for him_ alone_.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Note: <strong>OK, so this was going to be slightly longer as I wanted Sherlock and Molly to have a private conversation without Anderson there… BUT… I wrote that line and it just felt damn perfect to let it end here. I'm not quite sure about my feelings on this piece. I've spent a couple hours writing and I think I like it. I'm just not sure if it turned out the way I wanted it. I'm a little nervous about whether or not Sherlock is in character or not. Anyways, I'm going to post it because I'd like to hear what y'll think.

Please review? :)

Petal.


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